know…”
Outside, safe in bright sun, Constance dared to breathe.
It’d been bad enough running into Garret like that, but then running out of money, and Garret offering to buy a gift for their daughter.
Their daughter…
Hands shaking so badly she could hardly open the door of her tan ’92 Civic, let alone ease the keys into the ignition once she’d set her purchases on the passenger side, Constance forced air into her lungs. All those years ago she’d made her bed the second she’d allowed Garret into it.
Leaning forward, she dropped her head against the steering wheel, praying Harvey kept Garret occupied with war stories for at least fifteen to twenty minutes.
How had her life come to this?
Constantly wondering if someday Garret would tire of playing G.I. Joe, then swoop in to take the only thing in her life worth having—her precious little girl—was Constance’s worst nightmare. The mere thought of Lindsay going through the same hell she had as a child in being torn between two parents was inconceivable. Not to mention a huge part of the reason that, to this day, Constance had so closely guarded her secret.
The air in the car was stiflingly hot, even with the windows down; the air-conditioning had gone out last summer. Over the winter, she’d hoped to find funds to fix it, but then the house’s hot water heater had died, so who knew when she’d have cash for luxuries like cool air?
Nathan, her ex-husband but continued confidant and close friend, had on numerous occasions offered to loan her money or just outright pay for whatever she or Lindsay had needed, but with each new offer, she’d politely but firmly turned him down. He’d been a doll all those years ago to help her out of what at the time had seemed an insurmountable problem. Never did she want to burden him again.
A decade ago, the three of them—Garret, Nathan and she—had been great friends. Then she and Garret moved beyond friendship. Suddenly, pregnant, scared and refusing to bog down Garret’s life by telling him of the baby, she’d confided in Nathan, hoping he’d have suggestions for what she should do. Never had she expected him to propose marriage!
Though her initial reaction had been a swift hug and an equally speedy refusal, he’d explained that as a lifelong friend, he loved Garret, too. He wanted him to follow his dreams. Garret was too young to be burdened with a kid. When Constance had pointed out so was Nathan, he’d brought up the practical matter of his healthy trust fund. A baby and wife would be no financial burden. As for the demands on his time, he’d begged her to let him do this. Not just as a favor to her, but to Garret. Years later Nathan had admitted he loved her—had always loved her. He’d hoped she’d feel the same, but how could she when Garret had already claimed her heart?
Of course, in retrospect, Constance saw the mistake she’d made in keeping Lindsay from Garret all these years. But seeing a problem and knowing how to fix it were two different things.
Not long into her and Nathan’s marriage, when Constance still slept in her own bed, dreaming of one day reuniting with Garret, Nathan had been kind enough to see her through her pregnancy. Shortly thereafter, when she’d caught glimpses of sadness and regret in Nathan’s eyes, she’d released him from what he’d believed a lifelong obligation. As much as she adored Nathan as a friend, she wanted him to experience the same joy she and Garret had fleetingly found.
A thump on the car’s roof made her jump.
She looked sharply up only to have the knot in her stomach tighten. Garret stood alongside her and, judging by the rich scent of grain, that thump had been him resting the feed bag on top of her car.
“Would you mind?” she barked. “That rough paper’s no doubt scratching my paint.”
He laughed. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, sweetie, but judging by this scratched-all-to-hell side panel and that crunched front right fender, your ride’s got a lot bigger issues than a wee scratch to the roof.”
“That’s not the point,” she said. “You can’t just go around tossing feed bags on top of women’s cars.”
“Would it be all right to toss other things up there?”
The question was so ludicrous, the look on his sinfully handsome mug so sincere, she couldn’t stop the grin tugging the corners of her mouth. “Go away.”
“I will, but first, answer me one thing.”
“What?”
“Mom said you and Nathan didn’t work out. He not paying child support?”
“What is it with you and outrageous questions? I thought the army taught respect?”
“Yeah, but I’m in the Navy.” He winked. “So? Want me to teach Nathan a lesson on how real men are responsible for those they marry and bring into this world?”
“No,” she said, ramming on the ignition. “I thought—and I quote—’it’d be a cold day in hell’ before you did me any favors? Besides which, having you talk to Nathan is the last thing I need.”
“True, I said that. But my chat with your ex would be for your little girl. Seems to me after what just happened in there, she needs help from someone in getting the child support that’s rightfully hers. Might as well be me.”
“Stay out of it,” she said. “And whatever you do, stay away from Nathan.”
AFTER AN AWKWARD, silent dinner with his mother, then a polite hour of TV watching, Garret now found himself back on the front porch sitting in a too-small rocker. Crickets chirped. The smell of damp earth from the freshly watered garden mingled with the sweet scent of potted petunias lining the porch.
Outside, all was calm, so why, inside, did Constance’s request for help still haunt him?
Why did he care what happened with her job or Nathan?
It was a simple issue of right and wrong. Lots of times during grueling runs and missions, he’d had too much time to think, playing out scenarios, what-if dioramas of his life.
When his mom had told him Constance had had a quickie wedding to Nathan—probably because she was pregnant—Garret had wondered what if she’d gotten pregnant with his child? Lindsay could’ve been his. Lord knew they’d been careless enough. What twist of fate had made Lindsay Nathan’s instead of his little girl?
How would Garret’s life have been different?
His dream of entering the Navy was a noble kid fantasy. But if he’d discovered Constance had been carrying his child, he’d have no doubt followed in his father’s footsteps and been a lawyer. Sure, school would’ve been tough with a wife and kid, but he’d have managed. He still would’ve lived out his life fighting for the good guys.
So why had Nathan and Constance broken up?
Nathan had initially hidden his feelings for Connie well, but Garret had on more than one occasion suspected his supposed best friend of having a thing for her. Could anyone blame him? She’d been the school beauty. Their graduating class had numbered just under seventy, and though there’d been plenty of pretty girls, Constance had held most every title: Homecoming Queen, Miss Mule Shoe High, Head Cheerleader, Most Likely to Succeed. Nathan’s folks owned
